


Red-Bloodied Armor

by Syntax



Category: AdventureQuest Worlds, DragonFable
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Body Horror, Drakath is Competent, F/M, Past Character Death, Serenity is not Dyana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntax/pseuds/Syntax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every fandom needs a Beauty and The Beast AU.  After an attempt to discover her past identity is violently derailed, Serenity winds up in the home of a powerful warlord.  But something else is going on underneath the surface...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For untold generations, the Kingdom of Greenguard was ruled over by one family. Convention held that the name was Slugwrath, as it once had been, and in the eyes of the people, always would be. Whether the name was accurate or not was irrelevant. What mattered was that their time as the nation's chief authority had come to an end.

A revolution overtook the capitol city, and in a shocking turn of events, those that had once defended the royal family succeeded in deposing them. Within weeks one of their number had been hailed as the new king, a title he took on reluctantly, and without joy. The many years afterwards were spent in turmoil, as those that had risked their lives to overthrow the crown now risked their livelihoods undoing the damage such an event had caused. In later centuries, the family that had ruled the country for so long had become callous, and uncaring for the people that they had sworn to govern. Much had been lost in the years surrounding the revolution, and those that had lived through it sought to recover all that they could through whatever means necessary. Treaties were signed, policies were enacted, wars were had, and enemies were made.

Over time, those that had been revolutionaries returned to their positions of defense. A lull overtook the senses once sharpened by conspiracy, and the nation soon grew used to the modest peace that they had created, marred only occasionally by altercations with outside forces. A return to the arts was made. A lowering of once oppressively high taxes would bring about a small economic boom, allowing for an increase in wealth among the populace. Such would begin Greenguard's Golden Age.

In the eleventh year after the changing of the dynasties, an attack was made upon the queen. An unknown assailant stole her away in the dead of night. For what means, none know, but there have been countless theories. A prisoner of war, a sacrifice to some dark force, an act of divine retribution for perceived wrongdoings. None can say. There were many knights that ran desperately through the city that night, hoping to retrieve their queen.

Only one managed to reach her.

The assailant had fled from the capitol city, diving into the crypts and caves that had been left from old warring days, when the city was besieged and the citizens would have to find other means of escape. For the most fleeting of moments the knight had been able to see his queen, to call out to her, and to attempt to rescue her as his fellows had tried before him.

He was struck down for his efforts.

Not as quickly as his fellows had been, long before reaching their lady, but he too met their fate, if only for a short while. As he lay bleeding on the stone floors of the crypt expanse, perhaps laughing at the irony that he would die in a burial ground, the knight was Visited.

As if springing up from the shadows themselves, a figure in black appeared before him. Sir Knight, it said to him, I can give you a second chance. You lie here dying underground, where none shall find you, and forgotten you shall become. But, the figure said, I can give you new life with which to change your fate. Life, the figure said, and power. The power to shrug off your mortal wounds. The power to defeat any in your path. The power to rescue your lady.

In return, the figure said, the knight would forever be amongst its service, ready and willing to carry out its bidding at even the slightest word, for as long as the knight shall live.

These words the figure in shrouded black said to the knight, and he was Tempted. For in his life, he had been free of such desires, pure of heart, and tempered by humility—but he was grief stricken. He was dying. Though the knight had tried his best, and indeed done better than any mortal man could hope to have done, he saw his failure to rescue his queen as a failing in his being. He had sworn not only to his king, but to his heart as well, to protect his queen and keep her safe, whatever the cost to his own life might be be—and this, the figure knew. For every moment that the knight had spent, his lifeblood ebbing away onto he cold stone, the figure had lain in wait. observing patiently until the knight had become sufficiently impaired, and desperate enough to consider its offer of power.

The figure extended a shadow-wrapped hand, and made its offer.

And the knight, addled by grief and loss of blood, accepted.

And for his sacrifice, he was Consumed.

* * *

In the moments hence, a man of metal that was not the knight rose among the depth of the crypt. Not merely a being of flesh and blood, but a being of spines and spikes, of red-bloodied steel, of stolen life—and unimaginable power. At this, the metalman gazed upon himself, and was horrified. It seemed to the metalman that he had become a beast, or some other ignoble creature. The metalman called out to the figure wrapped in shadows, but stood unanswered, for the figure had already left, having acquired that which it had come for.

For a fleeting moment, the metalman knew despair, when through the vast caverns of the crypt expanse a cry rang out, and the metalman remembered that which he had given his life for. An oath.

The queen.

The metalman ran through the caverns possessed by some unknown means. Through many twists and turns, and paths leading nowhere at all, the metalman ran. And the metalman encountered the assailant.

The assailant looked upon the metalman with fear, for it knew that the metalman had once been the knight, and it knew the means through which the metalman had come to find life renewed. But the assailant found strength in knowing as well that it had killed the knight, and the knight's fellows before him. This, the assailant recounted to the metalman—and this, the assailant would come to regret.

In a rage, the metalman attacked the assailant, swinging wildly at it with his blade, and tearing away at it with freshly sprung claws of steel. This time, the metalman would not fail. Though the assailant had strength in plenty, it could not again overtake the metalman that had been granted the power to defeat it, and it felt fear renewed. In its last moments, the assailant crumpled, and pleaded with the metalman to spare it. Riches in return, the assailant promised, riches in plenty. A seat of great importance among the assailant's council. An enclave of beautiful women to ease the desires of man. And power—power unimaginable.

But these things no longer held meaning to the metalman, and he heard the assailant's promises with an empty heart. With a swift motion, he brought his sword down on the assailant's neck, spilling its life onto the cold earth and staining the soil with black.

His quest accomplished, the metalman sought the queen.

The metalman approached the queen with caution, for he knew full well the horror that he had become. But the queen feared him not, for she could see that within the red-bloodied steel that had become his skin, the metalman still carried the heart and soul of the knight, though she knew not how. She regaled the metalman fondly, and embraced him as her savior, and in this fleeting moment the metalman knew peace. Thought it was not to last—for in the next instance the figure made itself known once more.

Behold, the figure wrapped in shadows called out to the metalman. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, it said. You have been granted your life, your power, and your queen lies within your grasp, as you so wished her to be.

Now, the figure said, it is time to fulfill your end of the bargain. Reluctantly, the metalman pulled away, and knelt before his new master in supplication. The figure had spoken true after all, and though the metalman was the knight no longer, he would keep to his word.

Very good, the figure said, pleased with the metalman's obedience. Now stand at attention and heed your first command.

Kill the Queen.

The metalman froze, but still the queen was without fear. She knew now how the knight had become the metalman, and at once she sought a means to undo his transformation. Seeing both this and its new servant's inaction, the figure called out to the metalman in great anger, demanding once more that he kill the queen.

To his horror, the metalman found that despite his resistance, the arm that held his sword began to rise. He called out to the queen to flee, to escape this place and leave him to his fate, but she refused to move from his side. In her final moments, the queen prayed for guidance from everything that was holy as she tried to find some means of salvation for the knight that was her savior.

With a despairing cry, the metalman struck her down—

And suddenly the cavern became filled with blinding light.

* * *

For what specifically happened in those last few moments to the queen, the metalman, and the figure wrapped in shadows, none know. The queen was found many days later, blood painting her clothes and a smile painting her face, her body strangely free from wounds. The figure wrapped in shadows could only be whispered of, for none knew if it had truly been there, or if it truly existed at all. Only the fate of the metalman could be known for certain.

With his queen dead and his life forfeit, the metalman fled the country of Greenguard. Far away, where none would fear the cut of his blade, or tear of his claws. Far to the west, to the forgotten land of Skullholme.

In the many months after the death of the queen, the mourning king would send parties to retrieve the metalman, so that he might know what happened to his wife, and again bear eyes on the knight that had once been his friend. At first, friends were sent, in hopes of reminding the metalman of who he had once been. Mages and priests were sent failing this, in hopes of breaking whatever spell that had taken hold of the metalman. And finally, knights and warriors were sent, in hopes of granting the metalman peace in the death that he had so denied.

None of them ever returned.

As months turned to years, the kingdom of Greenguard eventually forgot about the metalman that had once been the knight. No further voyages were made to the kingdom of Skullholme. The queen was buried with the highest of honors. The figure wrapped in shadows, if it truly existed, became a bogeyman to tell children about at night. The people had moved on.

And it is here that our story begins.


	2. Chapter 2

Another day, and another dashed dream of finding out just who she used to be.

Serenity blew her hair out of her face with a huff. She stared out the carriage window with a perturbed expression, watching the dreary landscape go by. Dead-looking grass, dead-looking trees, and the whole place smelled like mold and peat moss. Occasionally the carriage would jostle, or she'd hear one of the horses whinny. Maybe a wolf or two howling in the distance. But that was what you got when you traveled through the badlands: bumpy roads, spooked horses, and wolves. She'd even heard tell of an elder dragon that roosted in the mountains of the region. Honestly, she'd never even wanted to come to this lords-forsaken land. But...

She'd gotten a tip from a friend that there might be a lead here on who she was before she'd lost her memory. And apparently that was all she needed to travel halfway across the continent. Because here she was, somewhere between twenty and twenty-six years old, she didn't quite know the exact year—and she had no idea who she was. Not the slightest clue. She'd woken up on the outskirts of Falconreach a few years back with frayed clothes and an empty head. The locals had taken her in without the slightest thought at least. Grams and her family had been especially helpful, giving her a place to stay before she could find someplace of her own. And Serenity did love Falconreach and the life she'd made for herself there, truly she did. But she just had to know who she was.

Sadly, all she really had to go on was that her clothes had been worn and singed at the edges when she'd been found, indicating firstly that she'd come from quite a hectic place, and secondly that she'd traveled quite a long ways before she woke up. Which, one would think would make the search a lot easier to narrow down, but Lore was a land where if three months passed without a war, there would be a celebration. Refugees were a fact of life, and she could be any one of the lost women that never found their homes again. Green-eyed blondes weren't exactly a rarity among the populace.

"I really should just stop chasing after every lead I get..." She grumbled to herself. She shifted her position on the carriage cushions a bit, but there was just no getting comfy on these things. At least they were long enough that she could lie on her side and take a nap if she wanted, not that she'd be doing much of that with how bumpy the road was. Speaking of—

"Excuse me?" She said, leaning towards the driver's seat and rapping a palm on the carriage wall, "If it keeps you from hitting any more of the bumps in the road, I don't mind if you go slower. It'll be dark before we reach the next town anyways."

The coachman groused something at her in return, but between his regional accent and the wall between them, Serenity couldn't make out what the was saying very well. She thanked him anyways and headed back to her seat.

Now where was she? Oh, right.

But what was worse, Serenity mused as she watched the drear background of Skullholme go bumpily past, was that she'd actually gotten her hopes up. Admittedly the story her friend had given her was quite a ways away from plausible—among other things it involved sleeping potions, an old noble family, and ancient cults—but to his credit, he'd sent some pictures along, and that woman did look a fair bit like her. If it wasn't her, then it could be a relative, or even just a garden variety coincidence. Still, stranger things had happened in Lore, right? And she'd heard more than a few interesting theories from the townspeople in Falconreach...

So she'd traveled all the way from Falconreach to Triste with carefully bated excitement, met up with her friend, and headed to the old family crypt that the local mage's college was excavating for study. Amazingly enough, her blood did actually manage to activate some of the ancestral runes running through the place, so if nothing else, she did have some relation to these people. But—apparently the team had just unearthed the woman her friend suspected her to be just a few hours earlier that morning. Which was bad enough already, but then a necromancer on loan from the next school over started going on about how similar their bone structure was. She'd had to excuse herself when he grabbed the poor woman's mummified skull and started pointing out the various features they had in common.

Her friend had apologized profusely, but the damage had been done. To make matters worse, several of the excavation crew ended up checking their blood on the runes as well. At least half of them were able to get the damn things to work before she'd finally left the site. Up to and including the girl that hailed from the Sandsea. And if the blood had spread that far, then she really wasn't any closer to finding out who she was than she had been when she left.

Serenity let out a sigh and slouched a bit in her seat. The bumps in the road would make her back slide a bit across the smoothly polished box wall, but she was finding it harder to care. What was really starting to annoy her was the loud thwoomp _-_ ing noises she kept hearing in th—

Suddenly something rammed into the side of the carriage. The force of the impact threw her to the box floor with a cry. The carriage had just barely managed to avoid tipping over. What on Lore—?

The carriage jerked again, this time from the other side, sending her crashing into the side wall. She could hear the horses whinnying. The coachman was shouting something, but she couldn't make it out. That—that noise was just so—

A bonechilling roar reverberated through the carriage box.

Dragon.

She couldn't help but scream.

It rammed into the carriage again, throwing her back to the other wall. Her head crashed on the gilded metal frame of the carriage door, and sat dazed and clutching her head in pain for a half a second before realizing her good fortune. The door. Escape. She scrambled to jimmy the handle open, heart pounding in her ears.

The dragon roared again, and she could hear screaming; whether from her, the horses, or the coachman, she couldn't tell. Blackened claws tore into the roof of the carriage, yanking it back and nearly jerking her away from the door handle. She gave a choked cry at the sudden pain in her arms. Her hands fumbled more with the door handle as the carriage jerked and swayed.

_click_

The carriage door swung wide open, propelled by the speed of the moving vehicle and her own body weight pressed against it. The door had managed to pull her with it, and she stared down at the rushing dirt and dead grass speeding below her. A scream was lost to the wind as she tried to jerk herself back into the carriage—she needed to escape, but this was too fast, the ground would tear her to bits, she was going to die—

The carriage jostled at yet another bump in the road, and Serenity was sent tumbling out of the carriage with a shriek. The ground met her hard. Rocks, earth, and briers tore into her clothes and skin, sending her bloody and bruised across the ground. She collided with a tree on her way across the ground, the force of the impact knocking the breath out of her and sending a sharp pain throughout her chest. The blood was still rushing in her ears, and between the bumpy landing and the stress she felt sick. She wanted to give up and just lie dead on the ground until the wolves came. Then the dragon roared again; she scrambled to her feet with a inward shriek.

The dragon dominated the sky beyond the sparse treeline for as far as she could see. A faint whimper escaped her mouth between panicked breaths. That... _thing_  was massive. Even larger than the inn she managed in Falconreach. It hovered menacingly in the air, stretching its jaws open wide and—

Serenity watched with breathless horror as the dragon breathed its unholy fire on what could only be the carriage that she'd been travelling comfortably in just moments earlier. A column of smoke billowed up from the site. Serenity could only imagine the screaming of the coachmen, and the horses, as everything went up in flames. She clenched her eyes shut and covered her ears to block out the scene, but it wasn't any use. Even from where she was, she could smell the smoke.

She fell to the ground dazed and nauseated. Her morning meal came up in her throat, and she had to press her hands to her mouth to keep it from spilling out. No. That carriage had been her only way home. She didn't know her way through this country. Dangers lurking in the forest aside, it'd take her a long time to reach civilization. If she was going to live to get to the next town, she'd need those nutrients.

She rose to her feet slowly. Every moment stabilizing herself was a moment she could spend calming herself down. Her heart still pounding louder than she could even think, Serenity ran.

* * *

It'd been at least an hour, but she could still smell smoke over the fungus and earth of the surrounding woodland. The roar of the dragon still echoed in her ears. At some point in her running she'd tripped over a jutting tree root and twisted her ankle. It hadn't started swelling any, but there were some dark bruises forming near the joint. If she had anything to use as a bandage she might be able to keep it from getting worse, but all her things had been in the carriage. All Serenity had was the clothes on her back, and a handful of coins and nuts in her pockets. And with how dark it was getting already, she couldn't afford to remove anything that might shelter her from the night time cold.

She paced and stumbled on through the woods towards what she could only hope would eventually take her to a place with people. Friendly people, she amended, as the sudden roar in her ears finally registered properly as the distant howl of a wolf. After all, werewolves were a people too, and she'd rather not run into any of them...

The pain in her chest had only gotten sharper since she'd started moving more. She was starting to think that her unhappy meeting with a tree might've cracked some of her ribs, but so far out in the wilderness, there was nothing she could do but soldier on. Skullholme was a land crawling with everything parents warned their children about at night. The worst thing she could do for herself would be to stay in one place and make an easy target.

Still...She needed to rest at some point. Her ankle would only get worse as she went on, and her limbs still ached from the rough landing she'd gotten earlier. And she'd need to find water soon...

Serenity looked around her surroundings with a paranoid eye. She couldn't see much between the darkening sky and the thickening trees, but she'd be able to see more than if she didn't look. Things looked clear enough. She hobbled over to a particularly large tree and settled herself on the ground between its bulging roots. The smell of mildew clung to the tree, and she pulled her head back in disgust after feeling the back of her blouse dampen with slime. A few mushrooms sprung up from cracks in the bark. Her eyes followed the trail of mushrooms up the tree, and she started doubting her choice in resting places.

A faint fluttering noise near her leg got her attention. A raven looked at her with what she guess was a quizzical expression. It hopped about on the ground a bit before flapping its wings a bit and settling on her thigh. Despite herself, Serenity smiled at the bird.

"Well hello there." She greeted. "Aren't you a pretty bird? It's nice to meet you."

She held out a hand for the the bird, giggling a bit when it nudged its beak between her fingers. The raven hopped about more on her legs, and soon headed down to try and wedge itself into her skirt pockets.

"Ohhh, my, my, you're a friendly one aren't you?" She asked, leaning to the side so the raven would have more room. "Are you someone's pet? I wouldn't think wild birds would cozy up to people so quickly."

The raven gave a screech in response.

Serenity reached down and gave it a pat on the head.

"Yeah, you must be someone's pet if you let me touch you so casually."

She remained at the tree for a good few more minutes, playing with the raven and periodically forgetting the tree was coated in slime and really wasn't the best thing to be leaning against. Eventually though, she dusted off her skirt and rose shakily to her feet. The raven squawked in irritation that its perch was moving. She tapped a finger to its head and shushed it.

"Now now, you're not the only one resting here. I need to get moving, okay? I've got a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time to cover it before nightfall." She said.

She took a look around at the forest, dismaying a bit that it'd gotten noticably darker than when she'd first sat down.

"Oh my. That's not good. I don't suppose you might be able to point me in which way to go?"

She looked down at the raven with a playful smile on her face. Suddenly the bird erupted from her pocket and flew to a nearby tree, startling her so much she almost lost her balance. The bird squawked at her from atop a low hanging branch on its chosen tree. A few seconds passed and it flew back to perch on her shoulder, croaking loadly in her ear. She shooed it away with a stumble. The bird flew back to its tree and squawked again, and Serenity felt a lamp light up.

"You want me to follow you?"

A squawk.

"Well..."

To be fair, it wasn't like she had a lot of options. She didn't know the landscape at all. And judging by the slow increase in howling and insect chirping, it was getting closer and closer to nightfall. Still...Some paranoid part of her argued that following the raven wouldn't be such a good idea. Birds usually weren't that tame; what if it was going to lead her to some coven, or a vampire's domain, where she'd have her throat cut and blood drained, and who knew what else?

The raven squawked again, and Serenity decided to trust it.

She walked after the raven into the twilight.

* * *

To the consternation of her paranoid voice, and the absolute delight of every other part of her, the raven lead her to a stream. She gulped the water down with a greedy thirst, stopping only when she was sure she couldn't hold anymore. She breathed a thank you to the raven bathing in the stream just a few inches past where she was drinking.

"Thank you little bird. You're a life saver."

The raven puffed up at this, though it could have just as easily been because birds do tend to puff up when they bathe. Still, she preferred to think that the small corvid had understood her.

Serenity dusted off her skirt and stood up to get a better look of the area. When she'd seen the stream, she'd rushed towards it like a dying man, comepletely ignoring the surrounding area. There were some trees leading to, and behind the stream, but a short while on the other side of it Serenity could see rock behind the trees. She had to be near a mountain, or some other formation.

_an elder dragon that roosted in the mountains of the region_

She shuddered at the thought. One encounter was enough for a lifetime. And besides...She didn't have much left to lose. She gave a tired sigh.

"Well, the next thing on the list is civilization, I suppose."

Serenity gave a wry look to the raven still puffing around in the stream.

"You wouldn't happen to know where I can that too, would you?" She asked.

The raven tilted its head, and she waved a halfway dismissing hand at it. "Just a suggestion."

While she was pondering her next course of action, she felt something brush her hair. Then another something. And another after that. And then they started coming down quicker and with a bit more force. She raven flapped with irritation at her feet, and as Serenity strained to listen to what might be falling on her head, she noticed a faint pattering that was slowly getting louder. Small circles started appearing in the stream, and she realized what was happening: it was starting to rain.

Rain that was, by all appearances, getting stronger by the second.

She really couldn't catch a break today could she? Or had the friendly raven been all the kindness she was due for the week? A distant light flashed behind her, and the thunderclap came much too soon afterwards for her comfort. Yes, no doubt she'd been selected for chew toy of fate earlier that morning and no one had thought to warn her.

A second bolt of lighting was joined by an even closer thunderclap and Serenity jolted into action, scooping up the raven and fleeing into the woods as fast as her ankle would allow. The bird gave a few indignant screeches of protest, but she shushed it with empty promises of more nuts as she hobbled along. The pattering of rain was just getting louder as she went on. The droplets stabbed into her back and shoulders, soaking her blouse uncomfortable quickly. Her legs and hair followed soon after; it wasn't long at all before she was soaked nearly to the bone.

The raven puffed up in her hands, jolting them open just long enough for it to escape to a nearby tree. For a moment Serenity considered going after it, but shook her head. She needed to keep moving towards a shelter. The bird had been helpful, but she wasn't going to chase after it in the rain.

Still...

"Thank you for your help!" She called to he raven as she headed forward. "If I'm ever in the area again, I'll be sure to spread out plenty of feed for the birds!"

If the raven gave a reply, it was drowned out by yet another clap of thunder. Serenity pressed on. She followed the stream for as far as she could, turning right at the end when it led into a veritable stone wall of cliff face. The rain weighed down on her as she walked. Sure, the cold did wonders for her ankle, but even still she kept stumbling, either from a growing exhausting, a lowered field of vision from the night air and the rain mixing together like a haze, or just from the rain moistening the ground beneath her.

The mountain wall to her left ended without warning, and the realization jolted her eyes straight ahead instead of just in front of her feet.

There was a building in front of her. A large one. Between the rain and the lack of light, she couldn't tell much more than that. But it was shelter. And it was potential warmth. It could be danger too, but she didn't care. She could worry about that later when she was warm enough that she could feel feelings again. She rushed to to it as fast as she could. As Serenity neared the building, she noticed the rivulets of water running down her hair decreasing, and looked up. An awning. That meant—Ah!

A few steps more to the right was the door. She grabbed the handle with a cold, slippery hand, and walked inside.


	3. Chapter 3

It was colder inside than she'd expected.

She'd exited the the pouring wet forest behind her and entered into a hallway that, by comparison, wasn't a whole lot better. A thin carpet muffled her footsteps somewhat as she walked in. The hallway was almost completely dark, and stretched on for farther than she could see with the little light she had. She could make out a few doors, and an archway to what was likely a small parlor, through which shone the only light in the hallway. There was a strong undercurrent of dust in the air, causing her to sneeze. A sudden bout of shivers overtook her, and Serenity hastily closed the door behind her, cutting off any drafts from the outside and muffling the sound of the falling rain. As near as she was to the door, she could still hear the rainfall, but beyond that... Nothing.

No sounds came from the hallway or any of the rooms in it, as far as she could hear. No creaking floorboards, or cracking candles, or any of the other sounds that you never really notice in a house until they're not there anymore. Instead, all she could hear was her own breathing. She supposed that must be a good thing, since it meant she probably hadn't disturbed whoever might be living in this building. But somehow the silence only unsettled her. Surely even when no one was moving an house would make sounds on its own.

She shivered again, and headed to the lit room, her shoes clacking when they met the stone floor underneath the carpet. A small study greeted her from the other side of the arch. The light came from an ornate gas lamp mounted on the wall. The shape of the fixture was somewhat familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. A few sitting chairs and bookshelves lined the walls of the smallish room. A coffee table. Odds and ends covering the walls and filling the corners. Everything seemed to be in shades of red and black, for whatever reason... which, considering the sorts of people that lived in Skullholme, probably wasn't the best sign.

She found a decorative vase with some flowers she couldn't recognize, and, after checking to make sure the flowers were actually real, gently wrung some of the rainwater out of her hair, making sure to keep as much of the liquid into the vase as possible. Serenity wasn't fully sure if anyone actually lived in this house, or if they would care whether or not she'd gotten water on the floor as much as they would her intrusion, but it just didn't feel right to be sloppy with these things. She'd been on the receiving end of more than a few uncouth guests in her time at the inn. After so much time cleaning up their messes, she'd hate to turn around and be just as messy.

Some of the rainchill was fading as the water on her skin evaporated, but her clothes were still soaked all the way through. Blouse, skirt, stockings, shoes, even the smallclothes... everything needed to be hung up to dry, but she didn't have enough on to feel comfortable taking anything off. At least, not without a more secure room, and a go ahead from her host, if there was one.

Serenity eyed the soft-looking chairs lining the walls. So long since her last rest... suddenly her legs felt like jelly. She really shouldn't while she was so wet, but...

After a few more moments of thought punctuated by shivers, she wriggled out of her shoes and stockings, and placed them on the floor. Her toes wiggled a bit in the open air after they'd been freed. Already she could feel them drying somewhat. She glanced back at one of the chairs and started rolling up her skirt. When her skirt was hiked up as much as she was comfortable with, she pressed a hand on one of the chair cushions as a test, and sat down on the chair nearest her. It turned out to be softer than it looked; the cushions seemed to suck her in. Like sitting on a cloud almost. She found herself pressing into the fabric, even ignoring how wet her clothes were.

It might not be appropriate, especially considering her current state of dress, but maybe whoever lived here wouldn't mind? She could always say she hadn't wanted to get the furniture wet, or make a case for the rain. It'd gotten to be a veritable storm outside before she'd managed to find this building. Surely whoever lived here would understand her reasoning...

She sunk further into the chair cushions. With something so comfortable, and herself so tired, it was hard keeping her eyes open. Some reasonable part of her urged her not to fall alseep until she was certain that she was somewhere safe. The rest of her argued that she wasn't going to sleep. She was just going to rest a little bit.

* * *

Serenity closed her eyes and snuggled into the fabric. Her last thought before drifting away was to wonder why there would be a lamp burning if no one was awake.

Something was pressing into her side. Her face scrunched up a bit, and she swatted away at whatever it was before turning over in her chair. It was brighter too... She grabbed a decorative pillow and wedged it between her eyes and her arms to block the light out. Honestly, what inconsiderate person would turn the lights on more? Couldn't they see her sleeping? Couldn't she sleep after everything that had happened to her in the past few hours? It was all very rude...

There was something making small noises behind her. She flicked an arm out to shoo it away, but her hand just met the open air. The noises changed a bit at least, but they didn't stop.

"Are you alive?"

Her eyes snapped open. She scrambled about in the chair, ultimately losing her balance and falling to the ground with an unpleasant thud. A hiss broke through clenched teeth as the impact reignited the stabbing pains in her chest, and the soreness her muscles had gotten since yesterday. Why.

A small gasp sounded behind her and small hands pressed against her back.

"Hey, lady? Are you alright?" said a small, high pitched voice.

Serenity gave a groan, and slumped over on her her other side. Her eyes cracked open to see a pale red dress and maroon leggings. A pale little face crouched into view, framed by vibrant red hair and a slightly confused expression. She noticed the eyes with a jolt. A bright cobalt blue with regular white borders.

White. Not red. Blue. Not yellow.

Not a vampire; a regular little girl.

"Lady?"

"I—yes," Serenity croaked, "yes, I'm alrive. Er, alright. Alive. Erm..."

She pushed herself off the ground, choking back a cry when a sharp pain shot through her ankle. What—

"Oh no..." she groaned, "don't tell me I made it worse..."

Her ankle had swollen since the previous night. She pressed down gently on the joint, the child watching with a curious eye. Just a bit of pressure and she'd started to get pains shooting up her leg. Yeah, she'd definitely made the sprain worse.

"You sure you're okay?" the child asked.

Serenity paused. For the past few hours she'd gotten used to the dull pains, but... She really wasn't, was she? Sprains could get to be pretty bad, and her chest...

"No," she admitted, "no, I don't really think I am. I had a pretty rough time getting here."

The child swept away some dirt on the floor, and settled herself down on the stone right next to the older woman.

"What happened?" She asked. Her little blue eyes seemed to twinkle at the question, and Serenity found herself smiling down at the little girl.

"I got attacked by a dragon," the woman said simply.

"Really?! What did it look like? Was it Valsakar? He's a big orange dragon with huuuuuge wings!" The child jumped up and spread her arms out wide the emphasize the dragon's size. "Daddy says he flies around near here sometimes, but I've never seen him!"

The child paused for a moment, her face contorting in thought. She crouched down at eye level next to Serenity and held out a hand.

"I'm Gravelyn." she said, small smile overtaking her face.

The blonde woman smiled in return, and, though wondering just what on Lore sort of a name "Gravelyn" was, gave the little girl's hand a polite shake.

"Serenity," she replied. "It's nice to meet you, Gravelyn. You mentioned your father? Is he home?"

Gravelyn made a face and stuck out her tongue.

"Noooo..." she groaned, "He said he had some important business to take care of in Darkwood and left a few days ago... And now there's just the boneheads left in the castle to keep me company, and I hate it!"

She stomped her feet on the ground and huffed before continuing, "He always does this too! Something comes up and he has to leave, and he just tells me to be good until he gets back and keep up with my lessons! And then he just comes back with some souvenir like that'll make everything all better!"

The girl paused. "Well, " she admitted, "it kinda does since they're usually really cool, but that's not the point! I'm tired of him going all over the place on "important business" while I have to stay here in this stupid castle!"

She stood there, fists clenched and red in the face, huffing and puffing over someone that was, by all appearances, far away, and likely to stay that way for a long while. Serenity's heart ached at the sight. She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, and pulled the girl into a hug. She winced a bit at the increased pressure against her chest, but wrapped the girl tight in her arms regardless. Gravelyn stiffened, but quickly cinched her arms around the older woman's torso, the girl's puffs getting ragged and peppered with choked sobs. Serenity cooed as the girl sobbed, holding her close and patting her shoulder.

" _Shhhhhhhhhhhhh..._  I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to bring up that pain... Do you know when he's coming back?" she asked.

Gravelyn hiccuped between breaths.

"Yeah..." she said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "He said-he said he'd be back later tonight... but I ju-ust wish... that h-he wouldn't be gone all the time..."

"Well, I don't know what I can do about that. But if you'd like, I can keep you company until then. Would you like that?" Serenity offered.

"Really?!"

Serenity nodded. "Really. I'm a bit lost, to be honest," she said with a laugh,"and between that and my ankle, there's really nowhere for me to go. Not until it heals and someone can point me in the direction of the next town. But I'd be happy to stay with you until then."

Gravelyn beamed, and Serenity honestly couldn't find the words to describe how beautiful her smile looked. The girl jumped to her feet and tugged at Serenity's arms to bring her up too. Serenity smiled, and reached a hand out for the chair she'd been sleeping on to stabilize herself.

"Come on then! I gotta show you the other rooms of the castle!" the girl chirped.

"Hold on, sweetie," Serenity chided. "I did say my leg was bad. How about you show me the first-aid kits first?"

Gravelyn scrunched up her face.

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine."

* * *

She hobbled through the empty hallways of the castle, a weary smile on her face and a fresh set of compression bandages on her ankle, as Gravelyn led her from room to room, intent on showing her as much as she could. She glanced at the walls they were passing as Gravelyn babbled on about the various games she'd played in the various rooms of the castle. These were much better lit than they had been when she'd first entered the castle. She'd finally deciphered just what shape the gas lamps were supposed to be: a human pelvis.

A few other macabre decorations lined the walls the further they ventured into the castle. Some potted plants were cut into shapes resembling vertebrae. A few old-fashioned death masks were grouped together in threes on some walls. Oddly enough, she continued to find vases of flowers in each hallway.

The red and black color scheme from the parlor was continued in the rest of the castle, with crimson and maroon wallpaper accented by black-lacquered wooden paneling. The floor remained of stone, even on higher floors, punctuating each of their footsteps with an echoing clack. The doorways seemed unusually high to her, though she supposed that it could be that it was a castle; things were supposed to look large and imposing.

A few skeletal sentries roamed the halls with weapons in hand, while others dusted ceiling corners or cleaned the grout on the floor. Gravelyn seemed to ignore them with an ease of familiarity, but Serenity was more wary. Their presence said a lot about what sort of person lived here, and what sort of father Gravelyn had. While it had been a surprise to see just what the girl meant by "boneheads", Serenity wasn't one to cower in fear at the sight of uncovered bones. This was Lore, for crying out loud. Necromancers were nearly as common as trees, and their undead hoards more common still. It was a rare citizen that hadn't had an encounter with an animate skeleton at some point.

She wasn't exactly sure what that would mean for her when "Daddy" came home, but she kept her eyes peeled for anything that could hint to a grisly end.

"Gravelyn?" she called, interrupting a long diatribe about how unfair it was to dismantle oneself when playing hide and seek.

"Yeah?" the girl chirped.

"What exactly do your lessons entail?"

If the girl's father really was a necromancer... Already that didn't bode well, but she'd hate it if the sweet little dear she'd listen to babble on about stuffed animals for ten minutes straight would be forced down a similar path. A sweet girl like her deserved better.

"Oh, all kinds of things! Daddy usually teaches me, but whenever he leaves Mister Sheamus takes over; he's my music teacher! There's art, and history, and math, and science, and tactics, and politics—"

"Wait," Serenity interjected. "Politics? You can't be any older than six."

Gravelyn turned her head and blew a raspberry. "Six and a half!"

The girl turned her attention back to the hallways, steering them down another turn past a hallway two of the skeleton guards were blocking off. The sight caught Serenity's eye, but she just filed it away for later. Other things were going on at the moment that needed her attention.

"Daddy says he used to work with the king." the girl continued, "And now he's even better than a king! He rules over aaaaaaall the undead, even the ones in other countries. That's... part of why he's gone so much..."

"But he says that one day, I'm gonna rule over the undead too! So I gotta learn how alliances and trades and stuff work." she said proudly.

... Serenity wasn't entirely sure if that was better or worse than just teaching the girl necromancy.

"...You said you took music lessons, right? Why don't you show me what instrument you play."

* * *

Her teeth clenched every time the violin hit a sour note. Which, considering the skill of the player, was often.

"Sweetie?" Serenity asked, "Are you sure you're in the right key?"

She didn't know much about music herself, but she'd gleamed some things from a few of her waitresses. Quite a few things can lead to wrong notes, especially on a stringed instrument.

"Or, is it tuned right? The stance?" She added, shrugging her shoulders.

Gravelyn lowered her instrument and scrunched up her face again. She shook her head. "No, it's right. It's just that Mister Sheamus said that this song works best if one of the strings was tuned a lil' bit differently than the rest."

Mister Sheamus, it turned out, was a necromancer, and largely responsible for the skeletons wandering the halls. The man largely avoided going about the castle himself however. It seemed that his own creations couldn't stand him, and would jeer when he got too close. He kept a dedicated music room in the castle, filled with instruments caked in dust that had clearly never been used. Serenity had asked why Gravelyn needed a specific tutor for her music lessons when her father taught her everything else. The girl had just shrugged. "Daddy sucks at violin," she'd said simply, "he's better at piano, but I didn't wanna play that, so we got Mister Sheamus. I'm getting really good at violin though, wanna hear?"

Which brought them to their little impromptu concert.

"And, what song is this again? I'm sorry, I forgot."

"The  _Danse Macabre_ ," the child said, pointedly pronouncing "macabre" as "ma-cawb", "But I only know the duet version. Daddy sometimes plays the other part with me on the piano. I dunno the full version yet. Mr Sheamus says he'll teach it to me when I advance in my studies, since it's a lot harder than the duet version. It's supposed to be a lot faster too, but I haven't learned how to flick my wrist like that yet."

Gravelyn shuffled her sheet music on its stand and played a few experimental chords, her lips pursed with concentration. She fiddled with the tuning knobs, apparently hearing something Serenity couldn't in regards to the sound quality. She nodded, and tapped her bow on the music stand, calling for Serenity to serve as her attentive audience. To Serenity's credit, she sat up straighter in her chair.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen in the audience! I will now be playing the  _Toreador Song_. Please hold your applause for when I am done."

Serenity couldn't help but give a quick few claps, earning a playful reprimand from Gravelyn.

Gravelyn cleared her throat, and began to play. To Serenity's surprise, this song sounded much better than her previous attempt. Maybe the girl really had tuned something wrong, despite her claims to the contrary. It was also just as likely that Gravelyn had practiced this song more than she had the last one. But the song still sounded like it was slower than it should be; the notes seemed to hang just a bit too long. Something else seemed missing as well... Was this another duet?

A knocking sounded from the door to the music room before Serenity could ask about the song.

"Gravelyn?" a scratchy voice called, "Who is this?"

Serenity turned to look at the speaker—and froze.

A monster stood in the doorway.

The thing was enormous. It was covered head to toe in red metal plating, ending in cruel points at every intersection in the armor. Dozens of spikes sprouted from its arms and shoulders; they looked wet and shiny. With what, Serenity didn't want to know. She was too busy trying to take in the face of the horror that stared at them. It seemed to her like a bloodied goat's skull, sprouting numerous wicked horns, and ending in innumerable sharp, jagged teeth. Burning embers glowered at her from the doorway.

She couldn't breathe. She wanted to scream, but nothing came. Behind her, she could hear Gravelyn shouting:

"Daddy! This is Miss Serenity; can she stay with us?! Pretty please!"


End file.
